


Burn Baby Burn

by yuehua (moonfleur)



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Ambiguous Relationships, Dancer!Chanhee, Established Relationship, First Meetings, M/M, X-Men References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27930922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonfleur/pseuds/yuehua
Summary: The music sinks into his bones and he flows with it, his body moves with the waves of it, movement for note in a way that he knows is absolutely mesmerising for anyone watching. It is the reason why he has so many regulars after all, people who come by three times a week just to watch him dance.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q, Choi Chanhee | New/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Burn Baby Burn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neopunch (caihongs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caihongs/gifts).



> > Happy Belated Birthday Hay!!♥︎ Thank you for giving me a reason to finally write TBZ (something you know I've been putting off for a million years). I hope you like this little thing I cooked up even though it may not be particularly well-seasoned but I hope you like it anyway ♡
> 
> For anyone else reading this, this is my first tbz fic, please be gentle T__T
> 
> This is also completely un-betaed so all mistakes are my own, I apologise.

Ribbons of smoke curl around him, winding their way up his feet, around his ankles, in between the wispy thin fabric that he likes to wear on nights when he’s feeling particularly sensual. He is relaxed tonight, the cool air from the ventilation system helping to keep the heat of the masses away from him, even though the bars surrounding him do a good enough job of that, keeps him out of arm's reach from the crowd — regulars who come specifically for his shows and the handful of others, businessmen who don’t know what they’re getting into entering a club like his. Even the occasional trader or bounty hunter who he can spot from a mile away, steely-eyed gazes glinting up at him from the darkness of the dance floor.

The music thrums a steady beat, not his usual selection because the DJ who normally runs his shows has called in sick but it doesn’t matter, he’s a professional. The music sinks into his bones and he flows with it, his body moves with the waves of it, movement for note in a way that he knows is absolutely mesmerising for anyone watching. It is the reason why he has so many regulars after all, people who come by three times a week just to watch him dance.

He throws a smile to the man standing in the front row, fingers curled around the bar of the cage as he watches in rapt attention. His face is flushed from the drink in his hand and the press of bodies all around him, all of them edging to get a closer look at the mysterious cage dancer, who likes to wrap himself in red silk and gauze, showing just enough skin to tease.

The music is reaching its peak now and Chanhee smiles to himself, and to the man who hasn’t looked away for the entirety of his set. Because who would he be if not indulgent of his favourite patrons. He glances out at the sea of bodies, catches the glitter of drink glasses as they catch the strobe lights just before the lights dim, leaving them all in nothing but red. Red lights, red smoke (or whatever the club likes to pump into its system, Chanhee never really bothered to find out), the red of his silk fabric that twirls along with him.

The room falls into a sudden silence as the music crests, electronic drum beats crescendo and Chanhee finally lets himself go, and he bursts into flames.

The crowd screams, he can hear it, can just about make it out through the blood rushing in his ears and the flames that surge around him. He doesn’t stop moving, the fire moves with him like a second skin, like a second layer atop of his burning silks that will never burn. He watches the crowd as he moves, takes note of the man who has taken a step back from the cage bars but whose gaze sears into him just as hot as the flames that surround him. 

This is his favourite part, the highlight, this is the reason why so many people come to the club on his nights. Because they want to see him, the man who catches fire but doesn’t burn, who wears his flames with pride. He is an anomaly, even in this world where they are slowly finding out that there are more and more people like him. Special. Different.

There is a different glint now in the crowd, not one of glass but one of metal, weapons being released from holsters as the bounty hunters all but salivate as they set their sights on him. Poor predictable creatures with more muscle than brain, he sends a leer towards one of them, watches as the muscles around his neck spasm in anger because he knows if he pulls his weapon in this club he’ll be dead before he can even get a shot off. The only perk of working here, Chanhee thinks. That and, of course, the man he knows is standing at the back of the crowd in the shadows. Silent, but always watching.

Chanhee throws a wink his way, feels the return caress along the edges of his mind as he finishes up his set. His flames pulse, and swirl, rise and fall one last time before he sends it upwards, forcing it into a swirling column that extends all the way to the ceiling a brilliant thing that has everyone shielding their eyes and for that single split second all they can see is a bird wreathed in flames, its wings of fire extending as it faces upward and then it is gone, and so is Chanhee.

▬▬▬▬▬

Chanhee slinks through the crowd of bodies, most of them are still staring at the empty cage where there is nothing more than a swirl of smoke where he used to be. He’s dumped most of the excess of silks underneath the stage but he is still wearing the tight fitting top and pants he’d had on underneath them. There is a murmur as people speculate, like they always do, like they haven’t seen this particular display many times before. He’s never understood their fascination with him, if he was being honest, he could do the same thing for every set and still they would flock to the club in droves.

He heads straight to the back of the club, collapsing into the booth there, the only one with a full view of the cage — his stage. It isn’t empty though, and the man who sits in it casts a glance at him as he sprawls out along the long length of the cushioned seat, head falling to rest right by the man’s thighs.

“You mind is unusually busy tonight,” the man says, a hand coming up immediately to card into Chanhee’s hair almost like a reflex, a habit born of a multitude of situations similar to this one. Chanhee looks up at him, taking in the sharp slope of his nose, the darkness of his eyes and his hair, styled to a perfect curl against his forehead. He is all sharp angles and hardness but the gaze with which he looks at Chanhee is just on the right side of soft and something in Chanhee settles warm and content.

Chanhee relaxes into the touch, even if a part of him is a bit annoyed that his hair is not ruined. “You’re ruining my hair, Changmin,” is what he settles for, scooting upwards on the couch so that he can lay his head in Changmin’s lap. “And my mind is busy every night.”

Changmin hums, gaze returning to the main area of the club as he scans the throngs of people. “ _Unusually busy_ ,” he reiterates. “Something happened while you were up there.”

Chanhee sighs, turning to bury his face into Changmin’s stomach, uncaring of his white shirt and the fact that he has a face full of makeup. “There were a lot of bounty hunters here tonight,” he mumbles into Changmin’s shirt.

Changmin’s hand stills in his hair and Chanhee doesn’t need to look to know that whatever soft expression he’d had on his face before is now gone, replaced by something colder, icy. Something that laces his words with venom. “I would never let them get to you. You know that.”

Chanhee scoffs, turning back to look up at him. “ _I_ would never let them get to me.” He waves his hand and the tips of his fingers burst into flames, small ones, barely visible with the strobing of the dance floor lights but Changmin shoves his hand down and out of sight anyway. When he tries to lift his hand back up he finds that he can’t, his hand plastered resolutely to his stomach, and he swats at Changmin with his free hand. “Let go of me. You know that I can damn well look after myself.”

Changmin sighs and Chanhee feels the invisible force release him. He flexes his hand experimentally before sitting up. Changmin takes Chanhee’s hand in his. “I know you can. That’s not what I’m trying to say. I’m just—” He lifts his hand like he’s going to run it through his hair before he remembers just how styled it is and drops it. “You don’t _have_ to, is what I’m saying.”

Chanhee smiles, small and genuine for the first time that night before threading their fingers together, the flames on his fingers separated from Changmin’s bare skin by an invisible layer. “I know.” He pauses for a second before his smile morphs into something wilder, more mischievous. “Now, don’t get all soft on me. What will our regulars say if they find out the infamous owner of Reveal is a huge _sap_?”

Changmin grins, a twin to Chanhee’s own. “Then I’d say it is only for you.”

Chanhee blanches before he shoves Changmin away, the flames in his hand going out as he pretends to throw up over the side of the seat. “Ew, don’t ever say that again.”

Changmin merely winks at him, which has him rolling his eyes before he settles in beside him again, their shoulders just close enough to touch. They sit in the comfortable silence between them for a while, letting the loud thuds of the bass through the speakers overhead wash over them, the strobe lights long-since returned to something more normal from the red they had used during Chanhee’s performance. The crowd around the cage has dispersed now, many of them congregating at the bar or at the other parts of the dance floor around the cage.

Changmin is tense, and Chanhee knows he’s busy going through the minds of everyone here, making sure no one is planning on causing any trouble. There usually isn’t because that’s how Reveal works — they are open to all types, humans, mutants, bounty hunters, the only condition is that you lay down your business at the door. It is a rule that took a while to sink into the psyche of the general population but once Changmin started taking out the troublemakers, everyone realised that they were dealing with something far more powerful than anything they’ve ever seen. 

And Chanhee is one of the few who’s seen him, who knows the face behind the mysterious force that keeps trouble out of Reveal. Then again, Changmin wouldn’t be here without him too so he’d say there were pretty even.

“There was a man out there tonight,” Chanhee says eventually, not taking his eyes off the silhouettes of bodies writhing on the dance floor. “During the performance.”

Changmin lets out a little huff of laughter. “I knew it. Your mind always gets a little weird when there are good-looking men around, like you’re figuratively bouncing off your own mental walls. It’s very entertaining.”

Chanhee scowls, jabbing him in the side with his elbow. “Stay out of my head.”

“I’m not _in_ your head. I told you I wouldn’t do that so I don’t, but your mind is just so _loud_ sometimes. And tonight it’s like you haven’t shut up. And because I’m not actually in your head all I hear is incoherent noises coming from you.” Changmin turns to look at him then, an eyebrow quirked questioningly. “Was he _that_ hot?”

Chanhee thinks back to the man he’d seen while he was in the cage, eyes bright and animated as his fingers gripped the bars so tight his knuckles had looked almost white even under the red light. He hadn’t been handsome, not in the typical sense of the word, and definitely not in Chanhee’s sense but there had been something about him, the way he had looked at Chanhee in appreciation and not like he was a piece of meat. There was something else too, an undercurrent of something that had him hooked, wanting to know more about this strange man who was at once both completely awed and yet unafraid of him.

“He wasn’t hot,” Chanhee says honestly. “Not in that way anyway. He was just… different.”

At that Changmin turns to him fully, and Chanhee can almost feel the intensity of his gaze on his skin like little pinpricks of pressure as he tries to read him without actually delving into his mind. “You’re interested in him,” Changmin says softly and with more understanding than Chanhee thinks he deserves.

“He _was_ interesting,” Chanhee says, carefully. “I don’t know, maybe it was just some trick of the light. Maybe I saw something that wasn’t there...” He trails off. He knows these vague statements aren’t really helping Changmin, or himself if he’s being honest, and he knows if he lets him Changmin will be able to figure things out for him. But he’s never much liked the idea of someone else in his head. Even if that someone was Changmin.

Changmin’s hand finds his again. “I can find him for you. If you want.”

Chanhee sighs and gives Changmin’s hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s fine. He was just a face in a crowd. It doesn’t matter.”

Chanhee knows Changmin doesn’t believe him but he lets it drop and they pass the rest of the night like that, Changmin’s hand in his and his heart in Changmin’s.

▬▬▬▬▬

As it turns out, Chanhee didn’t need Changmin to find him. Chanhee finds the man himself, on a regular day when neither of them are hidden behind flashing lights and alcohol-filtered goggles. 

It is the most mundane of days, if he’s being honest, he’d left Changmin at their apartment to grab lunch for the both of them from a nearby cafe and is about halfway through their order when the person behind him in the queue shoves him unceremoniously right into the edge of the counter. 

Heat flares behind his eyes and he has to force them shut before he scares the poor girl working behind the counter. He manages to stifle most of the flames before he whirls around, fully prepared to rip into the whoever it is had the bad luck of annoying him before he’s had his first meal of the day. Instead, he comes face to face with familiar wide eyes, this time more out of fear than curiosity and Chanhee’s words get caught in his throat.

He gapes at the guy who immediately stammers out a hasty apology, jabbing over his shoulder with his thumb at the giant who’s somehow managed to wedge himself between the guy and the poor soul behind him. Asshole. Chanhee’s fingers itch, sparks building in his fingertips, but he tamps it down, focusing instead on the poor guy who is still apologising, who probably thinks Chanhee’s irritation is directed at him.

He looks just like he had that night, although his tie is still in place and his suit jacket is on but it’s the same gentle brown eyes and soft features, the same slight build that Chanhee had noticed even through the bars and the flame. The look in his eyes is apologetic this time and yet, still unafraid, not even of the guy behind him who is easily double in size. Chanhee can’t help but stifle a smile at the comparison.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s fine. I get it. _Some_ people don’t know how to wait their turn.” He sends a glare over the man’s shoulder but the giant is pointedly looking somewhere else. The coward. He offers this guy a smile though, one that he hopes is reassuring enough. “I’m Chanhee,” he adds.

The man’s eyes widen, like he hadn’t been expecting more than a couple of words snapped at him or, in this case, said gently in the nicest manner possible. “O-Oh. Uh, Kevin.”

Chanhee’s smile widens. Kevin. How cute. He is about to say more when the cashier clears her throat and he suddenly remembers that he had been halfway through his order when big, tall and ugly had decided to cut the line. He holds up a finger to tell Kevin that their conversation will most definitely be continued before he turns around to finish up, giving the girl his most apologetic smile.

He waits for Kevin at the other end of the counter, watching as Kevin hands over his card with the sweetest smile he’s ever seen. The cashier must think so too because her cheeks are decidedly a lot rosier when she hands it back to him.

Kevin settles into the spot beside him like he’s always done so, that same smile still on his lips when he meets Chanhee’s eyes. He doesn’t say anything, though, and it has Chanhee backpedalling for a bit, wondering if maybe he’d read too much into their brief conversation before he decides that he’s lost him once, he’s not going to let it happen again.

Before his nerves can completely fail him, he speaks. “I remember you.”

Kevin freezes for a second and Chanhee immediately starts cursing himself internally for not opening with something softer, or less direct. “What do you mean?” Kevin says, his words coming out a lot more measured now.

“At Reveal. _Don’t_ ,” he reaches up to grab Kevin’s sleeve, afraid for a moment that Kevin will walk away. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything but…” he pauses. “You don’t recognise me?”

Kevin turns to look at him then, to really look at him and Chanhee feels suddenly too exposed in his giant t-shirt that he’s sure is Changmin’s and the ripped jeans he’d thrown on when he couldn’t find anything else lying around. “I—” he starts, pauses, bites his lips and Chanhee swears he can see the thoughts rushing through his brain. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Did I— I mean… Did we…? Oh god, I hope I didn’t just—”

“Stop,” Chanhee says, a laugh making its way out of his chest at the way Kevin seems to be suffering from his own internal panic. But, of course, it would make sense that Kevin doesn’t recognise him, not with the amount of makeup he usually wears when he performs, artfully painted on for the sole purpose of hiding his identity because he can’t risk any of the bounty hunters recognising him on the streets. “Oh my god. Breathe, please. It wasn’t like that at all. I— Here,” he swallows, scans the cafe really quickly to make sure no eyes are on them before setting the tip of his finger alight.

Kevin gasps, hand flying to his mouth in an attempt to stifle it but no one’s looking at them anyway. “You!” Kevin whisper-exclaims. “You’re the dancer.”

Chanhee smiles, gentle but also wary — you can never be too sure nowadays. “I am. And you’re not afraid of me.”

It comes out sounding more like a question than he meant it to and something in Kevin's gaze softens, a bit too close to understanding for Chanhee's comfort. "I'm not," he says with a nod, firm and assured in a way only regular humans can be in a world like theirs. "But I'm…" he bites his lip as he looks away from Chanhee, almost like he is ashamed. "You're— You're fascinating." It comes out like a breath, like it had taken the wind out of him to admit it, like a confession. Chanhee's cheeks burn at the realisation but something in him rekindles, something a little bit like hope. 

He puts on his best smile, playful, flirtatious, and, when used on Changmin, deadly. He takes a step closer to Kevin, a part of a dance he doesn't perform very often. "You think I'm fascinating?" Kevin nods, and Chanhee watches as he shallows, his Adam's apple bobbing even though his eyes never leave Chanhee's. There is a puddle of warm satisfaction pooling in his gut and it makes him even more confident. "Would you like to see more?" He half-whispers as he waves a hand between them, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake. 

"Yes," Kevin breathes, eyes locked onto Chanhee and suddenly Chanhee is taken back to that night in the cage, to Kevin watching him with rapt attention but also something more, something that would never have been as obvious in the moment as it is now in hindsight. It sends a delightful shiver down Chanhee's spine. 

The smile morphs into a grin. "Perfect."

Chanhee leaves him like that, his number tucked safely into the breast pocket of Kevin's jacket along with a promise that Chanhee will be back at the cafe in the evening to pick him if he is still interested. 

_You found him._ Changmin's voice is amused and more than a little fond when it sounds in his mind. 

Chanhee smiles, feeling lighter than he has in a while. _I did._

**Author's Note:**

> The only thing I had in my mind when I wrote this was phoenix dancer!chanhee but I had to see it done.
> 
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!♥︎
> 
> Find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/moonfleur_) or [curious cat](http://curiouscat.me/moonfleur_) ♥︎


End file.
